Love and Mr. Lewisham Read online

  CHAPTER IX.

  ALICE HEYDINGER.

  When he arrived at the top of the building he stood aside for the onlyremaining passenger to step out before him. It was the Miss Heydingerwho had addressed him, the owner of that gilt-edged book in the coverof brown paper. No one else had come all the way up from the groundfloor. The rest of the load in the lift had emerged at the"astronomical" and "chemical" floors, but these two had both chosen"zoology" for their third year of study, and zoology lived in theattics. She stepped into the light, with a rare touch of colourspringing to her cheeks in spite of herself. Lewisham perceived analteration in her dress. Perhaps she was looking for and noticed thetransitory surprise in his face.

  The previous session--their friendship was now nearly a year old--ithad never once dawned upon him that she could possibly be pretty. Thechief thing he had been able to recall with any definiteness duringthe vacation was, that her hair was not always tidy, and that evenwhen it chanced to be so, she was nervous about it; she distrustedit. He remembered her gesture while she talked, a patting explorationthat verged on the exasperating. From that he went on to rememberthat its colour was, on the whole, fair, a light brown. But he hadforgotten her mouth, he had failed to name the colour of her eyes. Shewore glasses, it is true. And her dress was indefinite in hismemory--an amorphous dinginess.

  And yet he had seen a good deal of her. They were not in the samecourse, but he had made her acquaintance on the committee of theschool Debating Society. Lewisham was just then discoveringSocialism. That had afforded a basis of conversation--an incentive tointercourse. She seemed to find something rarely interesting in hispeculiar view of things, and, as chance would have it, he met heraccidentally quite a number of times, in the corridors of the schools,in the big Education Library, and in the Art Museum. After a timethose meetings appear to have been no longer accidental.

  Lewisham for the first time in his life began to fancy he hadconversational powers. She resolved to stir up his ambitions--an easytask. She thought he had exceptional gifts and that she might serve todirect them; she certainly developed his vanity. She had matriculatedat the London University and they took the Intermediate Examination inScience together in July--she a little unwisely--which served, asalmost anything will serve in such cases, as a further link betweenthem. She failed, which in no way diminished Lewisham's regard forher. On the examination days they discoursed about Friendship ingeneral, and things like that, down the Burlington Arcade during thelunch time--Burlington Arcade undisguisedly amused by her learneddinginess and his red tie--and among other things that were said shereproached him for not reading poetry. When they parted in Piccadilly,after the examination, they agreed to write, about poetry andthemselves, during the holidays, and then she lent him, with a touchof hesitation, Rossetti's poems. He began to forget what had at firstbeen very evident to him, that she was two or three years older thanhe.

  Lewisham spent the vacation with an unsympathetic but kindly uncle whowas a plumber and builder. His uncle had a family of six, the eldesteleven, and Lewisham made himself agreeable and instructive. Moreoverhe worked hard for the culminating third year of his studies (in whichhe had decided to do great things), and he learnt to ride the OrdinaryBicycle. He also thought about Miss Heydinger, and she, it would seem,thought about him.

  He argued on social questions with his uncle, who was a prominentlocal Conservative. His uncle's controversial methods were coarse inthe extreme. Socialists, he said, were thieves. The object ofSocialism was to take away what a man earned and give it to "a lot oflazy scoundrels." Also rich people were necessary. "If there weren'twell-off people, how d'ye think I'd get a livin'? Hey? And where'd_you_ be then?" Socialism, his uncle assured him, was "got up" byagitators. "They get money out of young Gabies like you, and theyspend it in champagne." And thereafter he met Mr. Lewisham's argumentswith the word "Champagne" uttered in an irritating voice, followed bya luscious pantomime of drinking.

  Naturally Lewisham felt a little lonely, and perhaps he laid stressupon it in his letters to Miss Heydinger. It came to light that shefelt rather lonely too. They discussed the question of True asdistinguished from Ordinary Friendship, and from that they passed toGoethe and Elective Affinities. He told her how he looked for herletters, and they became more frequent. Her letters were Indisputablywell written. Had he been a journalist with a knowledge of "_perthou_." he would have known each for a day's work. After the practicalplumber had been asking what he expected to make by this here scienceof his, re-reading her letters was balsamic. He liked Rossetti--theexquisite sense of separation in "The Blessed Damozel" touchedhim. But, on the whole, he was a little surprised at Miss Heydinger'staste in poetry. Rossetti was so sensuous ... so florid. He hadscarcely expected that sort of thing.

  Altogether he had returned to the schools decidedly more interested inher than when they had parted. And the curious vague memories of herappearance as something a little frayed and careless, vanished atsight of her emerging from the darkness of the lift. Her hair was inorder, as the light glanced through it it looked even pretty, and shewore a well-made, dark-green and black dress, loose-gathered as wasthe fashion in those days, that somehow gave a needed touch of warmthto her face. Her hat too was a change from the careless lumpishness oflast year, a hat that, to a feminine mind, would have indicateddesign. It suited her--these things are past a male novelist'sexplaining.

  "I have this book of yours, Miss Heydinger," he said.

  "I am glad you have written that paper on Socialism," she replied,taking the brown-covered volume.

  They walked along the little passage towards the biological laboratoryside by side, and she stopped at the hat pegs to remove her hat. Forthat was the shameless way of the place, a girl student had to takeher hat off publicly, and publicly assume the holland apron that wasto protect her in the laboratory. Not even a looking-glass!

  "I shall come and hear your paper," she said.

  "I hope you will like it," said Lewisham at the door of thelaboratory.

  "And in the vacation I have been collecting evidence about ghosts--youremember our arguments. Though I did not tell you in my letters."

  "I'm sorry you're still obdurate," said Lewisham. "I thought that wasover."

  "And have you read 'Looking Backward'?"

  "I want to."

  "I have it here with my other books, if you'd care for me to lend itto you. Wait till I reach my table. My hands are so full."

  They entered the laboratory together, Lewisham holding the door opencourtly-wise, Miss Heydinger taking a reassuring pat at her hair. Nearthe door was a group of four girls, which group Miss Heydinger joined,holding the brown-covered book as inconspicuously as possible. Threeof them had been through the previous two years with her, and theygreeted her by her Christian name. They had previously exchangedglances at her appearance in Lewisham's company.

  A morose elderly young demonstrator brightened momentarily at thesight of Lewisham. "Well, we've got one of the decent ones anyhow,"said the morose elderly young demonstrator, who was apparently takingan inventory, and then brightening at a fresh entry. "Ah! and here'sSmithers."